Born Under a Bad Sign
by Neo Genesis1
Summary: Running wasn't in Bonnie's blood. But something was chasing her from her town. Her home. And along the way she found herself stuck between an a**hole hybrid and two brothers named after a gun. TVD/Supernatural AU. Bonnie/Sam/Tyler
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: Supernatural and The Vampire Diaries are both property of The CW Network, Warner Bros. Television, Eric Kripke, L. J. Smith, Kevin Williamson and Julie Plec respectively. I claim no ownership of any characters originating from said productions.

**Author's Note**: Truth be told, I stopped watching both TVD and SPN a long time ago. Thursday nights have become reserved for On Demand catch-up of other shows, and Friday nights have always been reserved for beer. But I do read the recaps and all kinds of crazy has been going down in both show's that leave me either side-eying the writers or throwing my hands up in a WTF jester.  
Thank goodness for fanfic. This is my attempt to remedy the mess that Gamble's done to my boys and the crapshoot that has become any storyline that involves Bonnie. Everything is AU from TVD 3x18 ep onwards and completely AU starting at season 3 of SPN.

In short, "I aim to misbehave." I just hope you enjoy the ride. This is un-beta'd, so please excuse any mistakes.

**Warnings**: Adult language and situations, violence…the usual suspects.

**Parings**: Sam/Bonnie/Tyler, Sam/Ruby, Dean/?, and UST Bonnie/Dean. Stefan/Elena/Damon triangle still intact, slight Caroline/Tyler, Caroline/Klaus and full on Caroline/Matt/Rebekah (because if those two ever got along they'd make one hell of a blonde power couple, and the thought of a Matt sandwich amuses me.) Couples subject to change at my whim on the account that there will be way too much Pretty in this story to keep everyone monogamous.

**Born Under a Bad Sign  
**Prologue

_If it wasn't for bad luck, I wouldn't have no luck at all._  
-Albert King

The funny thing about friends was that they were sometimes too damned concerned about your feelings to speak an obvious truth.

And the obvious truth when it came to Bonnie was that she was loosing it.

At first she could understand why they hadn't voiced the worry that was so obvious in in their eyes and the slight frown on the corners of their lips whenever they looked her way. She _had _been through hell the past couple of weeks. Between the Original family, her mother's turning and Klaus threatening just about everyone she cared about to perform the unbinding spell, she had more then enough reasons to be withdrawn. Incensed. Even more embittered with everything around her.

All of these were normal reactions for Bonnie. And this wasn't the first time she didn't care to hear Elena's 'everything is my fault' platitudes. Nor was it the first time Caroline ignored her attempts to be left alone, barging into her home to drag her out of bed, shovel coffee and scrambled eggs down her throat and cart her off to school.

In truth both of her best friends had been great. Knowing when to back off and when to push respectively. Knowing that she just needed time to process everything before she could really talk about all that happened without losing it and destroying something in a fit of magical rage. She knew her limitations and there were a lot of them. But she also knew her powers, and the anger that had been boiling inside her was strong enough she could taste it in the back of her throat for days. Hot and almost metallic, it was not unlike the blood Stefan had forced her to drink after Damon damn near tore her neck out. With a witch, anger like hers was a blaze that always needed to be put out gently.

And she had been getting there. Between the many meditations in the quiet of her house, or Caroline's impromptu movie marathon nights, or the increasingly easily gifted smiles she and Elena shared as they passed each other in the school hallways, still not really speaking but letting each other know that their sisterhood was still there, she was getting better.

It all came to a head after leaving the Mikaelson household where Damon was still tethered up like a pig for slaughter and Klaus was probably overseeing his torture with that smarmy look of his. Though she wanted nothing more than to be a hundred miles away her shaking legs could no longer handle the weight of everything. The pressure that had been sitting on her chest for god knows how long finally let go and she cried until she thought she'd be sick.

Cathartic. That word that Mrs. Bradley had been stuck on during their freshman literature class finally had a real world meaning for her. When she was able to get her breathing under control and her feet back under her she realized she didn't exactly feel better. But she felt less… raw. Lighter somehow.

She walked away, turning her back on the house and only half caring who was going to show up to save Damon's sorry ass as she wiped the tears away. She knew she should have called someone to come a pick her up. Mystic Falls wasn't exactly a safe place to walk during the daylight hours and doing it at night was just asking for trouble. But getting a ride would involve explaining and she just wanted the night to be over. To crawl in her bed after a hot shower and forget everything around her for the next day or two. To just be left alone.

Figuring her life couldn't be such a cosmic joke that something else could go terrible wrong in the fifteen minutes it would take her to get home, she took the risk of huffing it by foot. If she had known what was waiting ahead for her, she would have gone back and begged Klaus for an escort home. Would have cut open a vein and offered to pay in blood if it would have saved her from experiencing what she didn't see the car at first.

As she was coming around a curve in the rode the insistent beeping of her cell let her know the battery was one button push away from dying distracted her. She slowed her stride, head bent down as she dug in her purse to turn off the phone. As always it had found its way to the bottom of her bag and she was shoving aside her keys and old tubes of lip gloss when a lightening bolt of awareness shot down her spine and stopped her in her tracks. She hitched in a breath as her head snapped up to see a silver sedan parked half-hazardly on the side of the rode, the back door opened slightly.

Everything in her told her to turn and run. Her powers were sizzling throughout her body, ebbing a flowing with the suddenly accelerated beat of her heart. That primordial part of her consciousness was screaming at her that something was wrong there, _very _wrong, and whatever it was she wanted no part of it. Wanted to be far away from it.

She wasn't one to scare easily or to back down when facing a fear, but she also almost always listened to her intuition. At that moment she figured it was better to tuck tail and live another day then to play the inquisitive hero. Whatever happened there was evil in it's pure and simplest form. Standing thirty feet from the car she could feel it, covering the area like a dome with a thick oppressiveness that almost made it hard to breath. And it was quiet. There was no symphony of southern bugs filling the air, just the muted beep coming from her phone and the open door of the car.

She took a step back, surveyed the dark woods on both sides and realized how isolated she was. Cursing herself for being so stuck in her own head that she literally walked herself right into the situation, she was one muscle twitch away from bolting when she saw the toy laying on the road, visible only because the sedan's interior lights were illuminating the area around it.

She whimpered in the back of her throat, because despite everything her instinct was telling her she _knew _she was going over there. She had to. It was probably a trap to lure someone in and she was stupid for even considering it, but if there was a child there she had to be sure whoever that doll (with hair made from red yarn and wearing a checkered dress) belonged to was alright.

"No, no, _no_," she whispered almost feverishly as if to talk herself out of it. But her feet were moving forward regardless, her right hang clutching the straps of her purse so hard she could hear to leather creaking.

Halfway through her approach she was able to both feel and smell death there. The air was ripe with so much blood and she could see splatters of it on the car's windows. Licking her dry lips she, she moved further to the left of the vehicle, not wanting to be too close and certainly not wanting to get too good of a look of what was inside. Her pulse was beating so fast she could fell it pounding in her temples, and she ground her teeth together when she was finally able to get a look in the back seat.

And saw nothing.

Well, not nothing. There was still blood everywhere, like someone had flung around a paintbrush loaded with it. So much blood that she knew whoever it belonged to couldn't have survived. But there were no bodies to go with it. No little girl. No parents slumped over the steering wheel or passenger seat.

She ground her teeth harder, feeling an ache in her jaw as she looked around in confusion. There was no blood on the ground around the car or leading from it. The only thing she saw in the meager light was a discarded cigarette butt and that damn doll that she was more sure then ever had been left there as bait.

Whatever bravery that had led her there was quickly being replaced by panicky fear and she clamped down on it as best as she could. There was no time for that. She had to get out of there before whatever did this came back to see what their trap had caught.

She started running through her options. Her powers were probably the safest the rely on. But the malevolence that still hung in the air was old, older then any supernatural being she'd had the misfortune of coming across. Already drained from casting the unbinding spell, she didn't know if she had enough left in her the defend herself.

Her only other choices were running or calling for help. Not liking her odds she tried to calm her nerves by controlling her breathing, looking around the whole time and feeling vulnerable standing there in the middle of the road.

"Okay, you can do this," she whispered as she slid her purse from her shoulder to her elbow, intent on digging out her phone (that was still singing it's swan song) and attempt to make a least one call. And regardless if that worked or not, she planned to run like hell after.

Something came from behind and slipped a hand around her forearm. She screamed, loud and piercing because whatever grabbed her had images flying through her head. Images of terrible, sadistic things that made her stomach sour and bile rise up her throat. She suddenly understood what happened to the poor people that owned the car. And she understood even more that the thing that had it's cold, tight grip on her was ancient in way she couldn't even began to comprehend and it had plans for her. Plans it had spent millenniums working on and it was finally time for her to play her part.

Her powers swelled and she lashed out with them, throwing that abomination so far away that she heard it crashing into the woods as she bolted in shear terror for the only safety available. The car

It was such a stupid, horror movie move to make. But in her panic she could only think of putting something solid between herself and whatever it was that had grabbed her. Using the last bit of her magic she engaged the locks after climbing into the backseat and slamming the door shut.

Looking out the windows into the darkness surrounding her, she dumped her purse and began to search blindly for her cell phone, gagging the whole while. The smell of blood and other things was suffocating inside with all the doors closed. Her eyes were tearing up and she fought back a sob when she heard a giggle from outside.

She never realized how creepy a child's laughter could be.

A figure suddenly banged into the side of the car and she shrieked, scooting away to the opposite side, pressing her back into the door as she eyed the young girl grinning at her through the window. She couldn't be a day over seven, with rounded cheeks and impossibly large eyes. She couldn't make out the color of them or her hair, but she could see enough to know that she was cute. Adorable even. Except for her smile, that gave it away. There was no way someone so young could wear a smile as old and gruesome as that.

"Go away!"

The little girl (thing?) laughed again. "Now that was a silly thing to say. I'm not going anywhere. I've waited a long, _long _time for someone like you to come along, Bonnie."

She moaned, feeling drained and trapped, not knowing what to do. "What do you want from me?"

"I just want to come inside and play." She heard the door handle rattle. "Won't you let me in?"

Something in the way she spoke let her know she didn't mean just being let inside the car.

"You can go to hell," Bonnie yelled with more conviction then she felt.

The smile vanished then and suddenly the girl's pupils disappeared, leaving nothing but white. Bonnie blinked, astounded because she'd never seen something like that before and feeling her heart skip a beat because she'd obviously pissed the thing off.

"Now that wasn't a very nice thing to say."

The girls fist came up and she watched as it came down on the window hard enough to crack the safety glass. Bonnie didn't sit around to wait for her to break all the way through.

She climbed into the front, ignoring the drying blood and spongy pieces of flesh as she searched franticly for something to defend herself with. Behind her she could hear the glass being broken out punch by punch just as her eyes landed on the car keys still in the ignition. Sliding into the drivers seat, she turned on the car and gunned the gas so hard the back tires fishtailed in the dirt a few seconds before gaining traction.

The thing trying to get in let out a screech as it was forced to yank itself from the remains of the back window. Bonnie looked at the rearview mirror long enough to see it standing in the middle on the road, fists clenched as it was bathed in red from the retreating car's taillights.

She didn't remember the drive but somehow she found herself parked in front of the boarding house in one piece and Caroline was pleading for her to unlock the door before she pulled it off it's hinges. It took her a moment to realize she was crying hysterically, taking in huge gulps of air that hurt as they went down. There was music coming from the speakers, some Kidz Bop album that was so out of place in that moment that it felt surreal. She started beating on the radio, trying to silence it as her chest tightened. A small part of her understood that she was having a panic attack but she couldn't care enough to try to calm down, even as the edges of her vision started to go dark and the world closed in on her.

She didn't know how long she'd been out, but she didn't feel at all rested when she came to and everything was still as fresh in her mind as if it had happened only seconds ago. One look around the room let her know she was still at the Salvatore's. She sat up, looking down at the clean clothes she was wearing and not seeing any blood anywhere. Someone must have bathed and changed her. She hoped they burned what she had on earlier.

A creak from the doorway announced someone entering and she looked over to see Stefan standing there. It wasn't the person she wanted to see.

"Bonnie," he said by way of greeting, "How are you feeling?"

She let out a pathetic chuckle, pressing the heel of her hands into her eyes, trying to fight back tears. She thought she'd be cried out by now. "I just had the worst night of my life. How do you think I feel?"

When she looked up again he was sitting in a chair by the bed. She flinched back and he frowned at her.

"What happened to you? Did you hurt someone? That car you pulled up in…" he trailed off, the look on his face saying enough.

"I didn't do that," she said with clenched teeth, anger gathering at the fact that he could even entertain the idea that she could be responsible for such carnage. "It was like that when I found it. I was trying to help when that thing grabbed me."

"What thing?" he asked

She shook her head, her anger evaporating as she recalled standing by the car and smelling the blood, and the feel of that cold hand on her arm. "Oh, god. I saw what happened to them. When that, that thing touched me. I saw what it did and it was terrible. "

"What thing, Bonnie?" Stefan pushed.

"I don't know what it was! It was wearing that little girl like a suit. It was so old, Stefan," she shivered a little, "And it had white eyes. I made it mad and it's eyes turned white."

"White eyes?"

She nodded, "It wasn't like anything I've seen before. There was nothing good in it. Just old and evil."

A look of recognition crossed his face briefly before he sat back in the chair. She could see the wheels turning in his head, those every present frown lines deepening as he looked over her head.

"You know something." It came out like an accusation. Stefan turned his hazel eyes back to her and sighed.

"I'm not sure. I'll need to check some things first," he stood then, pressing a gentle hand on her shoulder to get her to lay back down, "In the mean time you get some more rest. Caroline and Elena should be up in a sec. They're making you some soup."

"I'm not hungry," she said, her stomach revolting at the very idea of food.

"You've been asleep for almost two days. You need to eat."

"What? That's not possible."

"You know what happens when you drain your magic," he looked down at her, still frowning, "Just lay down, Bonnie, and let us take care of you. We owe you that at the very least."

She was sure there was an apology in there somewhere and for that reason she relaxed back onto the bed and wiped at her watery eyes. He nodded his head once, giving her a half smirk before leaving the room.

It took her nearly all that evening to convince them to let her go home. Both Elena and Caroline insisted on going with her, driving her to her dad's house where she packed up a bag before heading to her Grams'. She didn't know why she wanted to be there of all places. It just felt safe. Safer then any other place in Mystic Falls at the moment.

They curled up together in her old bed just like they did as kids and she tried to explain what happened to her that night. She tried to impress on them the fear that pumped like ice through her veins. How afraid she'd been and still was. Eventually they all fell asleep, exhausted from the events of the past few days. But she woke up not soon after, panting and sweating from the nightmare she'd had. It had been full of black smoke and glowing, white eyes.

That had been a week ago. She hadn't stepped foot outside since then.

She roamed around the house, checking the locks on the doors and windows. Pouring through Sheila's library trying find anything that would explain what she saw that night. And why it wanted her.

Caroline made attempts to get her out but Bonnie had made it quite clear she wasn't going anywhere. Not as long as that thing was out there. She could still feel it sometimes, hovering around the property like a caged predator. But something about her Grams' house kept it from getting too close and as long as it couldn't get in she wasn't leaving.

She was still having nightmares every time she closed her eyes though. So she avoided sleeping as much as she could and it was starting to take it's toll. There were bags under her eyes and her skin was starting to gain a slight paler. Every time Elena came over she'd press her lips into a thin line at her appearance. And at times she could hear her and Caroline talking in hushed tones while she was in another room.

But no one was saying anything to her.

She wished they would stop tip-toeing around her and just say what they thought. Because she knew she was unraveling, the constant strain of fear and worry leaving her jumpy and anxious. But that didn't mean that had to treat her like she was broken.

She was far from that. And scared to death or not, she had every intention of finding what that thing was and killing it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note**: I've kind of decided that this story is going to be more Bonnie centric then anyone else. So while there will be a rotation of characters weaved throughout, the focus is mainly going to be on her storyline. Because she deserves it.

Like I said, I'm just kind of rolling with this story, because… inspiration. Or something. It's turning out a little more angsty, dark-fic then I intended, though I'm trying the break the somber mood a little.

Un-beta'd once again. And thanks for the reviews.

**Born Under a Bad Sign**  
Chapter 1

It was a good night for whiskey.

Hell, it was a good year for whiskey.

Dean slouched down in the high-back barstool, fingers playing with the empty shot glass which a few seconds ago contained the bourbon that was currently burning its way to his stomach. He was contemplating pulling a Thorogood and ordering a scotch to go with a beer that was sweating its way through a cheap paper coaster. Getting drunk had an appeal, but even he could acknowledge he'd been teetering the line between functional to full blown alcoholic for quite some time now. And though a pickled liver was the last of his worries at the moment, he couldn't stand to see that disappointed look on his brother's face if he came stumbling back into their motel room like the last time.

Sam was… He didn't exactly know how to describe him. Determined? Desperate? Full of piss and vinegar at him and the whole world because in about three months he was taking a one way trip down into the pit?

He was running himself to the point of exhaustion to find a way to get him out of the deal. Dean had stopped counting the miles they put on the Impala as they crisscrossed the country, chasing one hopeless solution after another, the Feds biting at their heels the whole way.

He'd resigned himself to his fate awhile ago but if pretending to hope kept Sam busy enough to not really think about the fact that, unless a miracle happened, he _was _going to die, then he would let him have his fantasy. Though it was becoming increasingly hard to keep the abject fear off his face whenever they settled down long enough to think.

Beer and spirits helped, muddled things in his brain enough that he could push everything aside and focus on the now and how and do their job. But the countdown was continuously rolling and sometimes, when the night was still and too damn quiet, he swore he could hear it ticking away in his head second by second.

He raised his hand to signal the bartender for a refill when a pale, slim wrist appeared on the counter to his right and the smell of sage and sulfur assaulted his senses.

"What do you want?" he asked with a frown.

She cut her eyes at him, pushing her stick straight blonde hair over her shoulder. "A drink."

"And out of all the bars in this shitty town you had to pick this one?" He snorted and shook his head, picking up his beer to chase the taste of the shot out of his mouth.

She turned to face him and he made a point to ignore her, picking at the label on the beer bottle. He wasn't in the mood for a word battle and seeing her didn't help him ignore the fact that could be him in the near future. Wearing some poor sap and vacationing up top to terrorize the natives.

"Okay, so maybe I sought you out. With a face like yours, can you blame a girl?" She grinned and reached over to pinch his cheek.

Dean slapped her hand away. "Damn it Ruby! Touch me again and I'll shove this bottle so far down your throat you'll-"

He was cut off by the bartender's approach. "What can I get you, pretty lady?"

Ruby didn't bother to turn her gaze from him as she put in her request. "Whiskey fizz."

"Sure thing, sweetheart. You want another go at that Maker's Mark?"

Dean looked at him, pushing the shot glass his way. "Definitely." Chancing a quick look at Ruby he went on, "And make it a double."

She chuckled, sliding her butt into the stool next to him as the bartender walked away to fill their orders. "Does Sammy know you're sitting here getting shit faced?"

"You don't get to call him that," he snapped at her.

"I'll take that as a no, then"

Dean took another long drag from his beer, exhaling deeply after he swallowed. He didn't know what it was about her that got his feathers all ruffled, but he could count on one hand the few interactions they had where she didn't manage to piss him off.

Narrowing his eyes, he finally gave her his full attention. "What. Do. You. Want?"

"A drink," she said again before tilting her head a little. "And to talk."

"What's there to talk about? Unless you've found a way to keep me from going to hell, I have nothing to say to you."

"That's the thing, Dean. I may have."

"_What_?"

The bartender came back then, placing a half full tumbler before him and a strange, frothy yellow drink before Ruby.

"Can I get you anything else?"

"We're good," Dean said a little forcefully, his eyes never leaving Ruby, who was still wearing that cat that ate the canary smile he absolutely detested.

"Alright," the bartender said hesitantly, obviously sensing the tension between them that he didn't want to be in the middle of, "Just holler if you need me."

When he walked away Dean leaned in closer to her. "You wanted to talk, so do it."

She took her time, picking up her drink and taking a sip. He set his jaw as her eyes closed and she shuddered in comical ecstasy.

"This is good."

"Ruby-"

"Mmm," she opened her eyes and shoved the glass in his face, "You should try it. It's like a grown up milkshake."

"I'm one second away from exorcising your demon ass."

"All work and no play," she huffed and put the glass drink. "Fine. I know who holds the contract to your soul."

His brows rose at that and he sat back a little, his heart suddenly racing. If they could manage to kill the demon who practically owned him, any deal he made would be null and void. But this was Ruby giving him the information and he was skeptical.

"Why do I feel like there's a 'but' in that statement?"

"She's powerful, Dean," Ruby said. "Some say she's the first. The original."

"The original what?"

"Everything," she shrugged, "First wife of Adam. Her defiance got her booted out _that _country club pretty quick. Story goes that she kept old Luci company after her fall from grace and he gifted her with eternal life."

A spark of recognition rang in his head. "Wait. Are you telling me the freaking mother of all demons holds to the deed to my soul?"

"Yup," she replied, popping the 'p'. "You want to live, you've got to ghost Lilith."

He grabbed his bourbon and took a huge gulp. There was no way they could pull that off. It took them over 20 years and the colt to kill Yellow Eyes, costing them countless lives in the process. They didn't even have the luxury of the gun now, only Ruby's knife and he was damn sure she wasn't going to hand it over. And there was no guarantee either one would work on the demon of all demons.

"Fuck!"

"My thoughts exactly," Ruby said, "I would tell you how useless it would be to try to end her but you're a Winchester. I'd have better luck squeezing water from a rock. But I can tell you where she is. "

Dean narrowed his eyes at her, "Where?"

"Virginia. In and quaint Antebellum town called Mystic Falls. She has her eyes set on a pretty little witch there.

He ran over the visual map in his head, calculating the miles it would take to drive there. They were currently in North Carolina, about and hour outside of Durham. Virginia was just a stone's throw away but they would need time to gather weapons, back-up and enough time to recon the town, Lilith, and the witch before they could put any plan into motion.

Then the word witch registered in his mind and he sneered.

"What the hell does she want with one of those demon worshiping freaks?"

"There you go again," she rolled her eyes, "Everything is so black and white with you."

"What?" he asked, getting defensive, "Nothing good has ever come from that crap. That's how you ended where you are to begin with."

"You would think after all this time you'd realize not everything supernatural is synonymous with evil. I had to sell my soul to get my powers, but some people are lucky enough to be born with them."

"She just so happened to be gifted with her mojo, huh? No deals, no nothing like that?" He took another sip of his beer. "Well sorry, sweetheart, but I'm not buying it. Especially with something like Lilith sniffing after her."

"Believe it or not, but Lilith _is _there and she's distracted. Now would be the best time to strike. So why don't we both finish up here and go find your brother so we can strategize a way to save your ass from the pit."

Dean couldn't argue with her logic. He still didn't trust her, but they'd had very little to go on before this piece of information. Ruby had been helpful in the past and they could still use her knowledge and blade, even if every fiber in his body rebelled at the simple idea of her sticking around.

He finished of his bourbon and watched as she picked up her own drink and sucked heartily through the straw.

"What is that?"

"A cocktail," she looked down at it, "Whiskey, simple syrup, lemon juice and soda water. A real mixologist would have thrown a raw egg in to make it authentic, but you can't expect perfection from a small town bartender like him."

"Gross," Dean shook his head and went to finish his beer.

She shrugged, "It's good. Besides, they were all the rage in the '30s, so I'm sure there's still a few geriatrics who would disagree with you."

"Dude, you are _old_."

Ruby just raised her glass and smiled.

* * *

Saturday dawned clear and crisp in Mystic Falls. Spring was technically there, but winter still had a determined grasp over the town, only losing it's grip once the sun was fully up and had burned through the cool air.

The windows were open, airing out bad energy the and smell of blood that always managed to permeate the residence with an early morning breeze. Outside the sounds of the day waking up could be heard over the gentle tinkle of a wind chime his sister had put up. Klaus paid little mind to it, focused more on packing up his room, furious because despite all his planning, scheming and manipulating things still hadn't worked out they way he wanted.

Finn was dead.

That fact sat heavily somewhere deep inside his gut where it festered and burned. He hadn't particularly liked his elder brother, and had been quickly reminded of why he'd kept him daggered for so many centuries when Finn so readily aligned himself with their mother. He was too self loathing and hung up on morality that it made him exasperating to be around. But it didn't mean he wanted him dead. No… he just wanted him out of the way. Despite the vindictiveness and dysfunctionality of the Mikaelson siblings, he'd never actively wanted any of them gone permanently. He'd gone through great lengths over the years, burned many bridges and caused many a massacre to insure that it didn't happened.

But of course that pesky Petrova doppelgänger had to go and throw another wrench in his plans.

He clinched his jaw as he placed a handful of sepia and coal colored Conté sticks into an old cigar box before tossing it into an open chest. Elena Gilbert was certainly becoming more trouble then she might be worth. He had every intention of leaving Mystic Falls before his mother cooked up another way to end his undead life for good, but he knew leaving her in the Salvatore's not so capable care was out of the question.

It was a problem he'd been mulling over as he packed up his art supplies. When it came down to it she was nothing but a sentient blood bag to him and he had absolutely no desire to drag her around the world while playing hide-n-seek with Esther. There were ways to get around that though, and he was running through his options mentally when the breeze coming through the window grew a little stronger and he suddenly felt another presence in the room with him.

"I summoned you days ago," Klaus greeted as he gestured towards the sigil, candles, and bowls of herbs and blood still sitting where he'd left them on the hardwood floor.

"Been busy," the visitor answered, "That biblical pain in my jacksy has been running us flunkies around something awful. It appears all the seeds she's planted have started to root, so I had to put in some overtime to keep her appeased."

Klaus made a non-committal noise in the back of his throat as he picked up a palette, eyeing the still drying oil paint that sat in globs and smears over the wooden surface, before tossing it into a growing pile of trash. Behind him the sound of expensive shoes echoed on the floor as they meandered around the room, pausing every few feet to stare at what he presumed where the portraits of Caroline he hadn't bothered to take off the walls yet.

"I see your talent for disturbing hasn't faded over the years."

Klaus smirked a little, flipping through a pile of newsprint sketches before tossing them aside, "Indeed."

"But I do see your preferences have. Last time I remember you being this fascinated with a face you had a fondness for gingers. Rita Hayworth in particular, if I recall correctly."

Klaus paused for a moment when he heard a sheet of paper being un-tacked from the wall.

"It's a shame, really, how much of herself dear Rita had to change in order to become a star," his visitor went on, "But this new one here, I bet she's _all _natural. Looks a bit insecure, though. Most of the pretty ones are. I find that lack of confidence makes it easier for me to sell the deal. All I have to do is promise the fame and adoration they so desire and they're practically tripping over themselves for a kiss. Not Rita, though. Believe me, I tried. She was a good Catholic girl till the very end, even as her brain turned to Swiss cheese. Now Marilyn on the other hand-"

"Crowley," Klaus cut him off, turning around to frown at him. If he let him, he would go for hours.

"Yes dear?" he responded, still looking over the drawing in his hand.

"I called you here to thank you, not to reminisce on your golden Hollywood years," he said as leaned back on the table behind him, crossing one ankle over the other and his arms across his chest.

Crowley looked up at him with a sardonic smile, "I take it I've told you that tale before?"

Klaus fought hard not to roll his eyes, "I was there for most of it."

"Right," he nodded as he tossed the heavy paper carelessly behind him before unbuttoning his suit jacket and sitting down on an nearby crate, "Let's get on to this business of your gratitude then."

"The spell you recommended worked," Klaus placed a hand over his heart and bowed his head mockingly, "On behalf of my brothers and sister, you have our deepest and most sincerest appreciation."

"Always glad to help out an old friend," Crowley said, his voice just as derisive, "I hope that means you've kept your end of the bargain?"

"The Bennett witch is safe," he replied, and this time he did roll his eyes before returning to cleaning off the table. He couldn't understand Crowley's concern over her well being. The only extra-ordinary and useful thing about her was her magic, though he begrudgingly respected that enough. After all she did come uncomfortably close to killing him. It was unfortunate that Elena had her under her thumb like she had just about everyone else in their godforsaken town. Bonnie Bennett could be so much more if she'd just learn to be a little selfish.

"From what I can gather she's a little traumatized over recent events," he went on, "But still in one piece."

The words had barely left his mouth before he found himself shoved painfully into the wall by an energy he couldn't see, his feet hanging several inches above the floorboards. Crowley was still seated but he was wearing a look that Klaus had seen many times in a distant past, one that flirted between annoyance and a deep-seated urge to maim. That invisible force pressed harder on his chest and throat, and though he didn't need to breathe it still hurt like hell. A little more pressure and things would start breaking. Sternum. Ribs. Trachea. They were all a nuisance to mend back together.

Incisors growing and eyes gleaming gold, he snarled "Is there a reason for the hostility?"

"Recent events?" Crowley repeated as he narrowed his eyes slightly, his voice deceptively calm. "Please don't tell me you let that temper of yours got the better of you. What did you do to my little dove?"

"Exactly what I set out to do; have her perform the spell. No harm came to her," Klaus growled out, "Not by my hands, at least."

"Then by whose?"

"You know exactly who," he grinned, "Word of advice, whatever timetable you're operating on, I suggest you hasten it. Because you are losing this game."

Crowley tilted his head slightly and Klaus found himself able to stand on his own feet again. He stumbled a little before straightening up, pulling at the collar of his Henley shirt.

"She's been here," Crowley deadpanned.

Klaus cracked his neck, feeling his features return to normal, "On and off for the past week. But don't worry, Bonnie's holed herself up in the late Bennett's residence. It's the securest place for her to be and I've had eyes on her the whole time."

Crowley seemed to perk up at that information. "She always was resourceful, that Sheila. It's a shame she's no longer with us."

"Forgive me if I don't share your sentiments." Klaus said. One Bennett witch was one too many in his opinion.

Crowley shrugged, nonplussed, "I'm sure whatever wards Shelia put up in her house could keep out a legion, but Bonnie can't stay there forever. She'll need to leave soon or this whole town will become another casualty in a very old war."

Klaus frowned, "You aren't suggesting I take her from here, are you?"

"Not exactly," Crowley shook his head, "You have a mouth full as it is with _your _mother, you don't need mine added to the mix. A guard will be sufficient enough. Someone that can be trusted. I'm sure you have enough of your undead puppies running around to make that happen."

"I may have someone in mind," Klaus said," But I doubt any amount of coercion will get her to leave that house, let alone Mystic Falls. She can be incredibly… stubborn."

"And I can be incredibly imaginative." Crowley stood and fastened the buttons of his jacket. "Let me worry about giving her a nudge in the right direction. You just keep her safe."

He crossed the room and held out his hand and Klaus took it for a brief shake.

"It's always a pleasure doing business with you," Crowley said, stepping back, "I'll be in touch, but if anything turns sour you have my number."

"Trust me, if the bottom falls out in whatever you're conspiring, I won't be there to go down with it," Klaus said with a shrug, "Preservation. I'm sure you understand."

"I wouldn't expect any less from you," Crowley chuckled, sticking a hand in his pocket. "Oh, before I forget, make sure she gets this. It probably won't be needed, but one can never be too cautious."

He tossed something his way and Klaus caught it midair. It was a square jewelry box and when he opened it he found a ring cushioned in the middle. The silver was perfectly polished, catching the morning light as he admired the intricate detail of flames interwoven through a pentagram. It had been years since he'd seen a protection charm such as that one, and he glanced up to ask Crowley about it only to realize he was gone.

Shaking his head slightly, he pulled the ring out and slipped it on his pinky finger before tossing the box aside. There was an irony here that he was just beginning to see. For so long the supernatural seemed to be drawn to Mystic Falls, and recently to Elena specifically. Himself included. But now beings older and infinitely stronger where converging for a girl that had spent most of her life being passed over and ignored until something was needed from her. For a fleeting moment he almost wished to be there when Bonnie realized whatever melodrama she thought her life was now would be nothing compared to the literal hell that was gunning for her.

Pushing the thought aside, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, dialing a number from memory. It rang a few times before a slightly exhausted, yet obviously annoyed voice answered.

"Hello pet," Klaus said with a wry smile playing on his lips, "You've been off the leash long enough, I think. It's time you return home. I have something I need you to do."

* * *

"Elena and Stefan are at the door."

Bonnie paused from pushing her spoon around in a bowl of congealing oatmeal to see Caroline standing in the kitchen doorway. She had her thumbs hooked in the belt loops of her skinny jeans, her feet covered in a fashionable pair of ridding boots. Bonnie frowned at them in recognition.

"Aren't those mine?"

Caroline looked down, twisting her heel out to the side to admire the brown leather encasing her leg. "Yeah, found 'em in your closet. I got mud on mine last night when I went hunting. You don't mind, do you? I remember you saying they were too loose on your calf's."

"Keep them," Bonnie said as stood up from the breakfast bar and picked up the bowl, moving to the sink and tossing it in to be cleaned later, "They look cute on you."

Caroline beamed at her, "Thanks Bon. Now about Stefan-"

"Ugg," Bonnie groaned, "I really don't want to see him right now. Or ever."

"I know he's not exactly your favorite person at the moment," Caroline said, raising her hands up in a placating manner, "But he says he might have some information to help with this whole creepy, poltergeist kid thing. And let's face it, the only thing we've gained from your Grams' library is an addiction to antihistamines."

They had been spending an awful amount of time sneezing over dusty tomes and squinting at fading Latin to get absolutely nowhere. She had yet to find her Grams' journals and was beginning to wonder if someone had made off with them. Sheila could always be found scribbling in various leather bound books. Bonnie remembered fondly the times as a kid where she would watch her for hours as she wrote down her thoughts with an honesty-to-god fountain pin and a glass of Sovereign Blanc always within reach. She'd swept through the whole house looking for them, stopping sort of pulling up floorboards in her search. Like with everything else, she'd turned up nothing. But she had a feeling that answers would be in those journals, if she could only find them.

"Alright," she said with a sigh, running a hand through her hair, catching more tangles then she was used to. It bothered her that she couldn't remember the last time she'd brushed or combed through it.

She shuffled out of the kitchen in her slippers, Caroline following close beside her as they approached the front door. She opened it to see Elena talking softly to Stefan and she stopped mid-sentence when she saw them standing there.

"Hey Bonnie," she said with a hesitant smile, looking at her still clad in pajamas, "I hope it's not too early."

Bonnie almost snorted out a laugh. It was going on noon, but she didn't particularly see the need of changing into street clothes when she didn't plan on going anywhere.

"No, Lena, it's fine."

She cut her eyes at Stefan who gave a nod in greeting. She almost told him to screw off because despite everything that was going on she still wasn't over the whole coin toss mess. He hadn't expressed any kind of remorse or even attempted an apology for what he'd been prepared to do. The fact that he was willing to kill her hurt in a way that she wasn't ready to examine. Despite everything in her nature she'd finally gotten to a point where she could kind of trust him. To call him a friend. And he went and crapped over it all by trying to take away her agency.

Yes, she was willing to die for Elena. But it was always _her _choice. He took that away from her that night. And his brother took that away from her mother. It was something she wasn't sure she'd be able to let go anytime soon.

She took a deep breath, letting it out quickly and Stefan must have seen something in her look because he didn't bother to ask for an invitation inside. He simply slid a backpack hanging on his shoulder off and sat down cross-legged on the porch floor, pulling several books out and opening them up to pre-marked pages.

Bonnie looked at Elena with questioning eyes, "What's all this?"

"Just hear him out, okay?" she said, pushing her hair behind her ears, "I really think it might help."

She crossed her arms and leaned against the door frame, looking down at the books Stefan had spread out before her, noting the aged yellow pages. Some of the illustrations looked familiar and she frowned a little before kneeling down to get a closer look.

"Hey, I've seen these," Caroline exclaimed from beside her, "They're carved all over the house."

She stepped out and picked up one of the books, "What are they?"

Stefan cleared his throat before answering, locking eyes with Bonnie, "They're protection symbols."

Bonnie glanced at the book in Caroline's hands before turning back to him. "Protection symbols for what?"

"You haven't been practicing any dark magic, have you?"

She narrowed her eyes in annoyance. "Of course not. With all that's been going on the last thing I would do is to open myself up to kind of thing."

He nodded his head as if he was expecting that answer. "There's a lot I don't understand about any of this, but over the years I've learned that anything could be possible. My existence is proof of that. And if vampires, werewolves, ghosts and witches walk among us, then it stands to reason that other supernatural beings do too."

"What are you getting at, Stefan," Bonnie asked, not liking the direction their conversation was turning and how he had yet to answer her question.

"You said the little girl's eyes changed. Nothing else about her features, just her eyes, right?"

Bonnie nodded and he sighed heavily.

"There's only one other thing that I know of that can do that," he said, "And from what Elena has told me, the fact that you can still feel it coming around means that it wants you, Bonnie. For whatever reason, it's set its eyes on you and wont be going anywhere until it gets what it wants."

"Oh my god," Caroline said, exasperated, "Can you cut out the cryptic dramatics and just get to the point already? You know, before we start collecting our Social Security checks? What is it, and why does it want her?"

His furrowed his brows in a way that always reminded Bonnie of a parent getting ready to reprimand an unruly child. He pursed his lips for a second before letting out another weary sigh.

"I think the girl may have been possessed."

"You mean by a spirit," Bonnie asked, "Or is it something like what Klaus did with Alaric?"

"No, nothing like that," Elena spoke up for him, "It's something we haven't seen before. Something worse."

The solemn look on their faces were really starting to concern her, making the few bites of oatmeal she was able to eat earlier start to curdle in her stomach, "Well what the hell is it?"

"A demon, Bonnie," Stefan said finally, "I'm pretty sure it's a demon."


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note**: I'm sooooooo sorry this took so long to get posted. My life has been a comedy of errors lately and things got kinda _real _for a moment there, but everything is sort of stable now and the muse is back. Hopefully the universe won't throw anymore curveballs my way and the next update won't take as long.

Stefan talks a lot in this chapter. I'm apologize for that in advance. Also I'm an abuser of commas. So sorry for that too. Bonnie's dad makes a small appearance this chapter, and I'm taking his character in a completely different direction since the show has given no explanation as to where he's been this whole time and how he's suddenly mayor material (R.I.P. Carol.)

I'm gonna go back and edit the previous chapters because I've noticed a few grammar and spelling errors, so if you've noticed anything please let me know. I edit for a living but when it comes to my own work all my skills go out the window.

**Warnings**: Language.

Born Under a Bad Sign

Chapter 2

Bonnie felt like laughing.

She clenched her fists together, digging her nails into her palms hard enough to feel sharp pain because she knew if she let that bubble of giggles out she might not be able to stop. She'd be hysterical with it and it would do nothing to convince her friends that she hadn't cracked up.

_Demons_.

That word resonated in her head as she held Stefan's steady gaze. She felt Caroline shift in the doorway behind her. Out the corner of her eye she saw Elena open her mouth as if to say something, probably some words of comfort, but close it just as abruptly. Beyond the front porch the sky was void of clouds, a perfect balance between summer and autumn where the air seemed cleaner and sharper. Across the street a neighbor was using an electric trimmer on his hedges. Down the block a group of kids could be heard laughing as they ran from yard to yard. It all felt so mockingly _normal. _While her life was quickly turning to shit around her the world outside just kept rolling on.

The laughter dried up as suddenly as it appeared, replaced by a bitterness and plan old envy at all the naïve people around them. She wished she could be like them, where the only thing supernatural in her life was watching re-runs of _X-Files_ and trying not to roll her eyes at her Grams' wine induced ramblings. It was childish and ultimately useless, but she would be lying if she said she wasn't jealous. There was safety in their ordinary lives. While she wouldn't trade her knowledge of what was lurking in the shadows for anything, she knew their ignorance more times then not kept them out of harms way.

She closed her eyes briefly and took a deep breath, holding it a few seconds before letting out a sigh that sounded world-weary even to her ears. Elena was looking at her expectedly and Bonnie felt a wave of empathy towards her. She was usually the epicenter of all things crazy in their world for the past year and she honestly didn't know how she held it together. One week and she was beyond ready to pass the mantle back to her.

Then again, she didn't have two vampire's hell bent on proving how much they loved her and were willing to protect her by any means necessary… and at the expense of anyone who got in their way.

Shaking the thought away she stood, one of the books Stefan brought still in her hands. "I haven't had nearly enough coffee for this."

Caroline made an agreeing noise behind her, "I'll go put another pot on."

Bonnie thanked her over her shoulder before turning back to the two left on the porch. "You might as well come in, Stefan. I have a feeling this pow-wow is gonna be a long one."

He stood after collecting the books off the worn porch, nodding his head and giving her a quiet thank you. Even still she blocked his path after Elena had entered for a few seconds, giving him a stare that clearly told him not to make her regret the invite inside.

They ended up in the living room. Caroline played host, handing out steaming mugs as they settled down around the coffee table, the books spread open on it's wooden surface. As Bonnie folded her legs under her while getting comfortable on a floor pillow she caught a whiff of alcohol from her mug.

"Caro," she protested with a frown.

"What? I figured you could use a little Irish pick-me-up," she said with a shrug before plopping down on a nearby loveseat, crossing her stretched out legs at the ankle. "You can thank me later, once you realize you probably need it."

Bonnie wasn't sure she could argue with that. Still, she pushed the spiked coffee to the side and looked at Stefan wearily. "So, you say I have a demon problem?"

"It's what I suspect." He leaned forward on the couch so that his elbows rested on his knees, his mug clutched tightly in his hands. "You have to understand that I've never actually met a demon before, that I know of. They have no real reason to deal with vampires since we already have one foot in the grave, so to speak. They can't get a hold on the thing they really care about with us. But humans still have souls. And they are valuable.

"It wasn't something I remembered until recently. Something Klaus _made _me forget. He's always kept…questionable company, and given his age and his hunt to break the Sun and Moon curse he's met his share of supernatural beings. Most of them have been witches who don't share your benevolent way of practicing. They use magic for gain, which goes against the natural order of everything it stands for."

He gave her a pointed look. "You know what happens to a witch who does that. There are consequences. Always. But the witches Klaus has a tendency to gravitate towards use magic as if they have nothing to lose. These type of witches are a dime-a-dozen. I've met hundreds over the years and very few have the family history that yours does, with magic that's passed on from generation to generation. The kind that's strictly for the purpose of keeping the natural balance. The ones that don't have opened themselves up to something dangerous. Sold a pivotal part of themselves for a power they weren't meant to have and abuse.

"The only way for them to do this is to summon a demon. In in exchange for their soul they can abuse the gift you have with no limitation and no fear of repercussion. The spirits can't control them because whatever they tap into is darker then anything they've been a conduit of before."

He took a sip of coffee, licking the excess liquid off his bottom lip before continuing. "I wasn't trying to imply anything earlier when I asked if you'd been tampering with anything dark. But Klaus had just forced you to do the unbinding spell and I thought maybe there was something in it that would have put you on it's radar. Drawn it to you."

"No, nothing like that." She shook her head. "I mean, it was a difficult spell but the only thing demonic about the entire situation was Klaus and his psycho sister's torture room."

"I was hoping that would have explained what happened to you and why you have a demon sniffing after you," he said, frowning. "If it wasn't the spell then it means it sought you out on its own. It wants you for something, Bonnie. And the only thing I can guess is possession."

"Why would it want me?"

"Because you're powerful. Demons need a vessel in order to function, and what better one then the body of a genuine witch?"

There was a moment of silence and Bonnie swallowed heavily. This was way over her head. It was hard enough trying to wrap her mind around the fact that demons apparently existed. But to know that one was after her, for whatever malicious purpose, was enough to make her stomach turn.

"More then likely it scared you the way it did to tear down some mental barriers. It needs you weak and vulnerable in order to possess you. But I don't think it realizes how strong your will is. Being a witch helps. It's the reason you're naturally resistant to compulsion. But I think most of it is just you. You're stronger then you give yourself credit for. Still, from what you told me this demon is older than dirt. That means it's patient and it's going to keep trying, Bonnie. It will wait however long it has to and do whatever it takes to break you."

"What do I do?" she asked him softly.

"We," Elena spoke up, putting heaven emphases on the word, letting her know she wasn't in this alone, "have a few options. I guess your Grams already had this place pretty heavily protected, but it wouldn't hurt to go through and check all the wards. Maybe add a few more just to be extra safe."

"That's what the books are for." Stefan gestured to the table. "There are protection symbols in there. I've got rock salt in the trunk, we can use that to line all the windowsills and main doors. It's a barrier that many supernaturals can't cross."

Caroline wrinkled her nose. "That actual works?"

"Yeah," Bonnie said. "Witches use it all the time. To shield themselves or to contain something. As long as the line isn't broken and depending on how you're using it, nothing can get in or out."

"Well that's great and all, but these are only temporary solutions," Caroline said. "You can't stay here forever, Bon. And there's no guarantee it won't find a way in eventually. There has to be a way get to rid of it for good. Either a way to kill it or, I don't know, go all _The Exorcist _on it's ass."

"I've exhausted mine and Alaric's book collections and everything I've found has been pretty vague on that subject. It's all about balance. If there's a way to summon and demon there has to be a way to send it back. But they've only mentioned the rituals, they never actually wrote them out." Stefan sighed. "I'm gonna have to talk to Klaus. He has experience with this type of thing."

"No," Elena said emphatically. Obviously this part of the plan was new to her. "No way! Last time you went to him for help he forced you to become something you hate."

"I know," he said, looking as if the prospect of doing it was slightly worse then drinking Drain-O. "I'm out of my league here. We all are. But if anyone knows what to do it's him. He's had a habit of palling around with demons in the past."

"And he also doesn't hand out freebees either. He'll want something in return," she shot back. "And who's to say he isn't responsible for all this anyway? For all we know he sent one of his hell buddies after Bonnie just for a good laugh. We can find someone, anyone else. Even if it means leaving town."

"We don't have _time _to find someone else. This needs to happen soon before that demon gets wise and does something drastic like burn this house down, protections spells and all, just to get what it wants. Klaus will have answers."

And just as looked they were getting amped up to really start arguing about it Caroline silenced them.

"I'll do it."

Both Bonnie and Elena start to protest but she held up a hand to quiet them. "Look, I'm the better bet. For whatever reason he likes me. I don't think he'd make me do anything extreme for the information."

"Um, hello?" Bonnie shook her head. "He had your boyfriend bite you in order to get into your good graces by saving your life. That sounds pretty extreme to me."

"So he has a twisted way of courting." She shrugged. "I'm not saying I like the idea, but if it means finding a way to help you then I'll take one for the team. I don't think he'll do anything to hurt me. Not again."

She didn't sound so convinced of it herself but Bonnie could see a determined set to her jaw that let her know there'd be no talking her out of it.

"I'll go with you."

"Elena." Stefan turned in his seat to get a better look at her. "I don't think that's a smart idea."

"He needs me. He won't do anything to me."

"You set him up to have his mother kill him and staked his brother." Stefan reminded her gently. "He'd probably drain you and leave you for dead just out of spite."

She deflated, sinking back into the couch cushions with a slight pout. "Fine."

"So it's settled. First we'll work on demon-proofing the house then I'll go have a talk with the Original bastard. And hopefully we can find a way to get you out of this mess," Caroline said, a wide smile gracing her lips. If there was one thing Bonnie always admired about her friend it was her optimism, even when faced with the worst of odds.

She was used to doing things solo. Solving her problems on her own. Grieving on her own. To have them rallying together to help her felt so foreign. She was usually the one with a solution, whether it was a premeditated plan or a hastily executed one. But now she was literally stuck having to rely on them to find answers and probably fix them while she twirled her thumbs, hoping that no one got hurt or killed in the process. She didn't like it, that feeling of helplessness. It rubbed her wrong on a base level and she knew she was going to have a hard time not being proactive about the whole situation.

It was a trust thing. So many people had let her down in life that it was easier to just take matters into her own hands. That way she wouldn't be disappointed. Maybe it made her jaded, but at least that way she would be the sole cause for any hurt she might experience. It was something she knew she'd have to work on getting over eventually, but she certainly hadn't been in a rush to do so.

Now it looked like she didn't have much of a choice.

She looked them over, worrying her bottom lip before letting her shoulders slump with a sigh. "Alright. But before we do anything I'm going to take a shower and get dressed."

She stood just as Stefan did. He pulled his keys out of the front pocket of his jeans.

"Can you help me grab the supplies from my car, Caroline."

"Sure." And they were both out of the room with a blur and rush of air.

Bonnie started to collect the coffee mugs and Elena was quick to help. When they reached the kitchen sink to dump them, Elena shooed her away.

"I'll take care of this, you go get showered and dressed. Oh, and wear something you don't care about getting stained. There's paint involved."

"Thanks," she said, turning on her slipper covered feet just as Elena turned on the faucet. She was halfway across the room when her friend got her attention again by calling her name.

"I know it doesn't sound like much right now, but I promise we're going to figure this out. We always do."

Bonnie forced what she hoped was a confident smile but didn't reply. Instead she shuffled her way up the back staircase to her bedroom. The assurance was made to make her feel better, but it was such a hallow one. When it came to the monsters they dealt with nothing hardly ever went right. And if it did there was always a terrible price to be paid. She couldn't help but wonder what it would be this time.

* * *

Taylor could feel her eyes on him as he packed the meager amount of clothes he brought along into his football gym bag. The motel he'd been staying at was trashy, to say the very least. With it's horrible split-pea colored wallpaper, water stained ceiling and a décor that obviously hadn't been updated since the mid-80's at best, he could say for certain that he wasn't sad to leave it behind.

But it didn't mean he was any eager to return to Mystic Falls. Especially since he was no where close to achieving what he set out to do when he put the town in his rear-view mirror weeks ago.

But the master called, and like the welled trained dog he was he had no choice but to come running.

With a resigned sigh he tossed a pair of socks that he was sure had been white at one point in the bag. The smell of unwashed laundry made him scrunch up his nose in distaste as he stood and headed to the bathroom to collect his toiletries. Hayley was still leaning against the wall by the television, arms crossed as she watched him move around the small room with a scowl on her face.

He'd been putting up a good front at ignoring her, but he knew from experience it'd only be a matter of time before she opened her mouth and say her peace. He didn't want to hear it because it wouldn't change anything. Within the next hour he was going to be back on the road, because despite his best efforts and even her help, he hadn't been able to break the sired bond.

He could still feel the lingering pain from his last try, the joints in his neck and shoulders protesting sharply if he moved faster then they were ready for. The constant, burning strain in what felt like every muscle in his body as they healed from the extensive damage the forced transformations caused. He was pissed that all that self-inflicted agony hadn't gotten him anywhere. That tether of connection was still pulling at the back of his mind. He still felt that blind compulsion to do whatever Klaus asked of him; to please him.

Even his phone call left him in excited in a way that was similar to a child who wanted to gratify their parents. It disgusted him down to his very core but he just _couldn't _help himself.

Returning to the bed he tossed in his toothbrush, deodorant and razor, a little bummed over the fact that his life had been reduced down to one smelly duffel. Behind him he heard Hayley finally move from her place holding up the wall and his shoulders reflexively tensed.

"It's a girl isn't it?"

Taylor continued back to the bathroom without answering to gather up the half-used complimentary shampoo and an unopened bar of soap. It was probably the one thing that the motel was good for, restocking the tiny bottles whenever he made a call to the front desk. The coffee machine in the lobby was a second close. It certainly wasn't the imported stuff he was used to back home, but it was cheap and didn't taste like grounds and ash. He was learning to appreciate the small things that made his situation a little less miserable.

"It's not like that," he said finally, tossing the bottles in the bag and turning to glance at her. Her face read that she was unimpressed and he sighed before rolling his eyes. "Yeah, it's a girl. Alright? But it's not in the way you're thinking."

"Then enlighten me, because the only reason that I can think of that would make you go back is some vagina in distress that you've have the pleasure of being up close and personal with," she said, raising her eyebrows. "And maybe you hope by swooping in and saving the day you can be reacquainted with it."

Tyler was already exasperated by the conversation and it had barely even started. "Look, she needs my help and there's nothing more to it. Bonnie has never been anything more to me then a friend."

That word felt weird as it rolled off his tongue and he suddenly realized he'd never considered his relationship with her before let alone tried to classify it. He used to chalk it up to small town living. Growing up with the same people you automatically started calling them friend simply because you knew so much about them. But at best you were mostly acquaintances, connected by Southern hospitality and the ever present small community gossip that gave the illusion that you were more familiar with a person then you really were.

That wasn't the deal with Bonnie, though. The truth was he hadn't bothered to get to know her any better because there had always been something about her that unsettled him.

Even before he activated the werewolf curse and learned what she was (and that their town had a long history of being a hotbed for supernatural madness), there was a part of him that always shied away from getting too close to her. He, to this day, couldn't quite put a finger on it. It was something in the way she looked at him at times. Like she could see right past the privileged jock front he projected out to the world and truly know him. There was a connection there he'd always been afraid to explore in the past, but with everything going on now he was a little more willing to see what the hell it was. Because that jolt of powerful awareness he'd always get whenever she was near had to mean something.

Maybe it was a witch thing. They were apparently responsible for werewolves very existence, among other things. Or maybe it was the whole creatures of nature part that made him feel drawn to her at times. He didn't know and it just was another question added to a very long mental list of things he was clueless about. It bothered him, being so ignorant about the secret world he'd found himself thrust unwillingly into.

"_Bonnie_?" Hayley scuffed at her name and if Tyler didn't know any better he'd think she was jealous.

He was used to getting double takes from women. Being well aware of the fact that he was an attractive guy he could willingly admit that he'd used it to his advantage. He even tried it a few time with her, testing the boundaries of their budding friendship with flirty smiles and not-so-subtle innuendo. He didn't know why he did it, exactly. She was a beautiful woman but he wasn't interested in her in that way. Habit, he supposed. In the end it didn't matter because she was utterly indifferent to his teenage charm, treating him more like a little brother that was feeling himself because of ragging hormones then anything else.

"Yeah, Bonnie," he reiterated. "And even if that blood-sucking dick hadn't ordered me to, I'd still go back."

It was the truth. He normally tried to keep out of whatever Elena related drama was unfolding at any given moment. Dating Caroline and being what he was kind of threw him in the mix of things despite his wishes. And Caroline always gave him a play-by-play of what was going down. Sometimes he felt biased because he usually only got her view of what was happening but he finally figured out that, though Caroline could be emotional at times, she had a very good grasp at reading people and situations. One of her biggest complaints was how Elena and her boy toys treated Bonnie, calling her only when they needed her for a magical fix to some problem they, more times then not, created on their own.

Caroline saw it and she absolutely hated how no one even acknowledged the sacrifices her friend made, let alone thanked her.

Even he was guilty of it. He'd benefited, mostly indirectly, from her altruism and still he never went out of his way to see how she was doing, even when he knew she was in a bad way. Being with Caroline opened his eyes to the grand levels of shit she went through just to keep her loved ones safe while at the same time trying to do what was expected of her as a Bennett witch. If playing Kevin Costner to her Whitney Houston for a few days was one way of showing his appreciation, then he'd do it.

Plus, wherever Bonnie was Caroline was sure not to be far behind. It was a crappy thing to think when her best friend was in trouble, but he missed her more then he thought possible. The few late night phone calls and texts they sent each other weren't nearly enough. He wanted to be able to feel her cool skin in his arms and bury his face in her hair that always smelled like wild flowers.

So really, Hayley was sort of right about the whole 'vagina in distress' bit. Well it was more like his dick being in distress. He had to fight a chuckle at the thought.

"I guess short of knocking you out and chaining you up somewhere, there's nothing I can say or do to get you to stay, huh?"

"Nope," he replied as he gave the tiny room a quick once-over to make sure he wasn't forgetting anything. Not that he had much to leave behind anyway.

He heard her sigh. "Well at least let me come with you. You might need someone to watch your back."

He turned finally to give her his full attention. "It's not safe for you there, Hayley. Klaus probably knows what I've been doing up here, and if he finds out that you've been helping me-"

"Yeah, I get it," she cut him off with a slight eye roll. "I just don't understand why you have to rush back there. What we've been doing must have helped some. The simple fact that you're still here taking the time to argue with me is proof enough that the bond isn't as strong as you said it used to be. We can keep trying. Maybe this is the kind of push you need to server the tie for good. Maybe actively fighting a command is the key. You just can't go throwing that all away for some girl in a place where you said no one gives a damn about you!"

"I just…" Caught in his own lie he stepped closer to place his hands on her upper arms, lowering his head to get a better look at her. "This is something I have to do. Sired bond or not, one of the few friends I have is in trouble and this time I can do something to help. I owe her that."

"Okay," Hayley said after a long moment while reaching up to squeeze his wrists briefly. "You do what you've got to do for your _friend_. But the second it's done, you drag your butt back here. We have work to do."

He nodded. "That's the plan."

She gave him another hard, assessing look before stepping out of his hold and moving towards the door. Tyler watched as she grabbed her jacket off the back of a chair as she went. She turned back to him as she slipped it on.

"You have my number," she said. "If anything changes or you need help, let me know. You might not think you're part of the pack, but we're still here for you. So don't be a stranger."

Before he could say in reply she was gone.

He stood there for a while staring at the closed wooden door. He wasn't entirely sure how he felt about being in a pack again, considering the disaster that happened to the last group of wolves that let him into their fold. He was sure that Hayley had some inkling of the truth from the small bits and pieces of his real life he'd been adding to his Florida cover story. She didn't seem to care about his reluctance, though. And from the few other members that he'd been introduced to, he got the impression they didn't much care either.

It would be nice to be belong to a pack again, but he wasn't willing to risk their lives for a bit of camaraderie. Especially if it led Klaus to another group of people being turned and forced to kowtow to him.

"Fuck it," he muttered to himself after dragging his hand across his face. He had other things to worry about at the moment. He zipped up his bag and slung it over his shoulder before grabbing his keys off the discolored nightstand. Flicking off the lights, he slipped out the door and headed down the cement walkway to the motel's front desk.

He inhaled deeply as he walked, trying to settle the anxious feeling that had been flirting through his veins all day. It had taken a lot of focus to not show it around Hayley because if she'd sensed his unease she probably _would _have tied him up to keep him from going anywhere.

He tried to convince himself as he checked out that he was just nervous about returning. He left one hell of a mess behind and hadn't lived up to the promise he made of fixing himself. That was part of it. But his instinct was telling him that whatever he was about to walk in to was a lot bigger then the babysitting job Klaus had assigned him to.

It would figure. Things in the Falls were never as easy as they were made out to be.

* * *

"_Hey, it's me. You, ah, you've probably heard from the school by now that I haven't been there all week. I just wanted to let you know that I'm not sick or hurt or anything. I know you don't like talking about… well you know. But something happened and it's kinda dangerous for me to go anywhere. I've been at Grams this whole time and it's safe here. The girls are with me and Stefan, you know Elena's boyfriend, has been helping. So don't freak out, alright? I'm okay._

_"I know you said you won't be back until Tuesday but is there any way you could cut your trip short? I'm in a little over my head and I can't find Grams' journals and everything is a mess… I just– I'd feel better if you were home Daddy. So umm, call me back if you're not too busy. If not I guess I'll see you whenever you get back. Bye."_

Rudy pulled his cell phone from his ear and pressed 1 to listen to the voicemail over again. He couldn't remember how many times he'd done that, just like he couldn't remember that last time he'd heard his daughter call him Daddy. Bonnie had always been independent, even when she was just a little thing running around with coltish limbs and pigtails. There was no coddling her over skinned knees or childhood nightmares. She kept a flashlight under her pillows to chase the monsters away and her skill with pouring rubbing alcohol and applying band aids was almost surgical. Her favorite words growing up where "Dad, you're not doing it right," while plucking whatever he was fiddling with out of his hands or moving him gently away from whatever kitchen misadventure he was about to blunder himself in to.

Most of the time it was a good thing because it meant she was responsible and he rarely had to worry about her while he was away. As the years passed and she got older (and he in turn spent more time away) she learned how to take care of herself. He had purposely raised her so that she wouldn't always need him because there were no guarantees in his line of work and his next trip out of town might be his last. But his way of parenting also bred a level of resentment that made asking him for help akin to getting a root canal.

She was asking for it now though, in her own round-about way. And he felt like crap warmed over because he was halfway across the country, in clothes that had three days of body funk on them and a stomach that was protesting the fact that it had been surviving on nothing but protein bars and coffee. And he wasn't there to reassure her.

He wasn't going to win any father of year awards anytime soon. Hell, he wasn't even in the running. He knew that but it didn't mean he wasn't doing what he could to keep Bonnie safe. Which is why he was leaning against his Bonneville outside an old paper mill with his phone pressed to his ear, listening to her try to hide the desperation in her voice.

He heard the crunch of feet on gravel behind him and he quickly closed his phone and shoved it into his pocket with one hand while at the same time reaching for the gun wedged in his waistband.

"Hey Uncle Rudy, you ready? We're all set up inside."

He relaxed a little, recognizing the voice and turned. "Yeah, was just checking my messages."

Derek stopped at the hood of the car, his thumbs hooked in the belt loops of his jeans. "Everything alright?"

Rudy sighed and rubbed at his forehead with the heal of his hand, trying to erase the frown lines he knew where there.

"Something happened back home." He cleared his throat. "I need to get on the road after this. Bonnie… she needs me."

Derek tilted his head towards the building behind him. "Then lets get this over with. The less time we have to spend here, the better. Place smells like ass anyway"

Rudy let out a chuckle as he they headed inside. Though the abandoned mill hadn't been in use in over a decade the air still smelt of rotten eggs. It wasn't pleasant but it served it's purpose by being off the beaten path and away from prying eyes. He held the door open for his nephew and let him lead the way through a labyrinth of halls and rooms. Not that he really needed him as a guide to were they were headed. All he had to do was follow the screams.

"He's a stubborn one," his brother, Mitchell, said as soon as they entered a larger room that at one time might have been used for storage. Derek gave his shoulder a brief squeeze before going to join his older sister by a portable water irrigation tank set off to the side. Rudy saddled up next to Mitchell, who was standing with his arms crossed, glowering at the figure that was tied to the chair in front of them.

"We knew this wasn't going to be easy," he said, watching the smoke still raising off the soaked man.

Mitchell uncrossed his arms to rub the back of his neck. "He's all yours. Just don't get too close. Derek and I bolted the chair down, but you know how slippery these bastards can be."

"I'll be alright." He assured him.

Rudy wondered who their captive was before all of this. He was dressed normally enough in a t-shirt and khaki shorts, though somehow in the struggle to get him here he lost one of his Converse sneakers. The hair in need of a cut and slight stubble on his checks screamed aimless post-grad student. It was a shame really, he was still a damn kid in so many ways.

Rudy frowned as he circled around him, checking the trap they'd painted on the concrete ground earlier and watching as he flinched every time water dripped onto him from the outdoor showerhead they'd rigged up earlier.

Completing his inspection, he came to stand in front of him again. "What's your name, son?"

The bowed head came up and Rudy found himself looking into hazel eyes. "I already told them. My name is Brandon. Brandon Hart."

Rudy looked over at Brittany, his niece, who was leaning against the wall by the water tank. She nodded her head once before twisting a lever hooked up to a hose. It took a few seconds for the water to make it's way through the suspended pump, but when the sparse trickles finally turned into a steady stream the screaming began again. He watched dispassionately as the young man cursed and writhed around as much as his tight constraints would allow. He didn't know how much holy water really hurt a demon but judging from how they reacted to it, it must have been like acid raining down on them. The seconds turned to minutes and Rudy kept a close eye on the level of the tank. They started out with fifty gallons worth, which was probably overkill. But at the same time he didn't know how long they would be there interrogating. It was better to be over prepared than to fall short and lose the upper ground.

"That's enough," he said after a while, his ears ringing slightly from howls echoing off the walls. The water cut off as he pulled up a spare chair. He waited a moment for the pain-twisted face to go lax and to see eyes that had gone completely black. Aside from Mitchell tensing slightly behind him, no one was startled by the change.

"Ah, there you are," Rudy said. "Let's try this again. What's your _real _name?"

"Mal," he said with venom in his voice, even though it had gone horse from yelling, before shaking his wet hair out of his face.

"It's nice to meet you, Mal. I'm-"

"I know who you are. Word was that you'd gone soft, started a little family and retired."

Rudy shrugged. "Yeah, well I had to get back on the hunt. You know how this economy is."

Mal chuckled a little. "What is it that you want? Or is this just a training exercise to get you back on your game?"

"I just want a few questions answered. Truthfully," he replied. "If you do that to my satisfaction then you're free to go."

"Answers, huh?" Mal raised a brow. "And if they aren't to your satisfaction?"

"Well…" Rudy gave Brittany another pointed look and Latin words started rolling off her tongue with an ease that he was slightly envious of. Mal started thrashing around in the chair again.

"Alright! I get your point," he yelled, straining against the chains that held him bound. "STOP!"

Rudy nodded and Brittany cut the exorcism off abruptly. He waited for Mal to catch his breath before he started speaking again.

"So, are you going to cooperate? Or should I call this a wash and just have her finish?"

Mal groaned as his head lulled back. "Fine. I'll answer what I can."

"Good." Rudy smiled and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together. "It seems your bosses downstairs are planning something. Something big. I want to know what it is and how my daughter is involved."


End file.
